


Harry Potter and The Year of Bad Pickup Lines

by Defy_Gravity_and_Fly



Series: Harry Potter and the Year of Bad Pickup Lines [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defy_Gravity_and_Fly/pseuds/Defy_Gravity_and_Fly
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy’s rivalry has grown dull, boring and predictable. But when they find a new way to bother and challenge one another, their relationship takes a turn that no one expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Harry Potter and the Really Bad Pickup Lines](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/500659) by FallingStarsFederation. 



Draco’s POV

Draco stood at the top of the stairs, lazily looking out over the Hogwarts terrace. Pansy and Blaise stood beside him, along with a few other Slytherins, rambling on about some insolent garbage, as per usual. Draco had absolutely had no interest in whatever they were up to now, and desperately begged for a distraction or excuse to leave.

It had been like this all year. Draco was constantly exhausted of the same old routine, the same old people, all of it the same. He barely even got the same thrill he used to when he got a rise out of Potter. It all seemed so plain, as if life had become a literal incarnation of porridge. He needed a change. Something new, exhilarating. He could scarcely stand to live another day wading his way through the vanilla mud that was his life. 

Suddenly, his eyes made their way to the stairs just below them, where he immediately recognised the untamed, insane, brown hair of the Boy Who Lived. Draco attempted a smirk, but immediately gave up. Sure, this could be his out, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he was practically bored to tears. Was he just going to do the same old thing? Make an effort to walk past Potter, call him some name like prat, and go along his merry way? He needed to get creative, to think of something new, something that Potter, or anyone else for that matter, would never see coming. 

He needed to surprise himself.

He decided he had to change something. Even the smallest thing would do. He needed this. More than anything. He continued to sit in silence amongst the others, thoughts flying through his mind as he brainstormed. But despite the fact that it felt like there was a quidditch game going on inside of his mind, he still came up empty. It was all too generic. He finally gave up, and attempted to bring himself back to reality. He wasn’t sure at all what the Slytherins were talking about, but in that exact moment, inspiration hit him.

“Hey! I think pickup lines are cute! They’re creative, funny, and always work in my romance novels.” Pansy said defensively, and Blaise rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot Pansy.” Blaise responded harshly. “Pickup lines are ridiculous, and besides, you really need to stop reading all those books. They’re putting all the wrong ideas in your head.” He laughed, as Pansy playfully punched him in the arm while saying “shove off” to him back, but by then everyone was more or less laughing.

Except for Draco. He was smirking. A genuine, ingenius smirk as he knew exactly what he was going to do to cure his issue. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” He said to the group. “Potter’s down there, and I think I’ll go mess with him a little bit.” He was already walking down the stairs before he saw anyone’s reactions, though he assumed they were all probably the usual nods or looks of intrigue.

Draco took each step stone down eagerly, and he could barely wipe the look of excitement from his face. For this to work properly, he had to remain calm and nonchalant, or else it wouldn't have the same effect. He took a quick moment to compose himself, took a deep breath, and walked down towards Potter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /* 

Harry’s POV

Harry stared aimlessly at his Transfiguration manual, rereading the same sentence over and over again. He couldn’t seem to focus, and the fact that the wind kept blowing his page was definitely not helping. He could’ve gone back to the library, but he’d already been there for an hour before, and needed some fresh air. He’d barely made any progress, and had a small hope that somehow a change of scenery would mysteriously allow him to suddenly understand Advanced Transfiguration. 

The stone of the steps were hard and uncomfortable, and winter was approaching, so it was rather chilly outside, but it actually was an improvement. The library had gotten to be too stuffy, and there was a large group of Ravenclaws there, so it was an endless rustle of papers and muffled whispers. He had a hard enough time focusing as it was, but give him endless distractions and unpleasant environments, and it was hopeless.

Harry took a moment to look away from his textbook, and looked over the terrace. A breeze passed by, and he deeply inhaled and felt the cold air fill his lungs. He pushed back up his glasses that had been progressively sliding down his nose, and went back to his reading.

Just as he had finally managed to get past the first paragraph and felt he was making the smallest morsel of progress, he felt an arm lightly drape over both of his shoulders as someone knelt down beside him. He stopped, and felt frozen in his place. In the corner of his eye, all he saw was the illuminating blonde hair of Draco Malfoy, and every muscle in his body tightened, going rigid. Malfoy approached right next to Harry’s face, his mouth practically against Harry’s ear, and he felt his robes sweeping around them in the wind.

“Hey Potter, want to come slytherin to my bed tonight?” He said, and swiftly stood up, looked at Harry for just an instant, and winked as he continued making his way down the stairs. The bloody bastard had winked at him! Harry simply sat there, left at a loss. He had expected Malfoy to be his usual prat self, and insult him with some terrible name, but this was something else completely.

What the hell was that?

He suddenly broke from his trance, and snapped his head up. He closed his book rapidly, and stood up, almost tripping over his robes.

“What the hell Malfoy?!” Harry almost hollered as he attempted to chase after the blonde. But the period had just ended, and more and more students were beginning to file into the hallways. Besides, Malfoy had longer legs, and walked significantly faster. Plus, he had a decent five second head start while Harry attempted to recompose himself. Harry eventually gave up, and leaned against a nearby wall, desperately attempting to figure out what the fuck had just happened between him and Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry’s POV

The past few days had been a blur to Harry. It seemed as though everything was flying past him, but also moving in slow motion. But he simply couldn’t get what Malfoy had said to him off of his mind. It rang inside of his head, making it impossible to focus on anything, whether it was classes, friends, or even falling asleep at night.

He analysed every reason as to why in Merlin’s beard Malfoy would have said that to him. He even contemplated the option that Malfoy perhaps didn’t seem to hate him as much as he thought, but immediately pushed that possibility away. That was impossible and simply preposterous. Eventually, he decided that Malfoy had settled upon a new way to torture him. And Harry decided he wouldn’t let Malfoy win whatever sick little game this was now.

It was a few days until Harry saw Malfoy again. He was on the terrace when he spotted him, leaning against a stone wall near a passageway, talking with one of his goons. Harry hadn’t noticed he was staring though until Ron shook his shoulder.

“Aye mate, what’re you even lookin’ at? What’s come over you?” He said, and Harry noticed even Hermione had stopped what she had been saying, looking at Harry inquisitively. He simply shook his head and said “Nothing, sorry.” in response. The two simply shrugged their shoulders and went back to whatever they had been doing. 

Harry knew exactly what he was going to say, and had practiced it in his head multiple times. He just needed a plan of approach. He wasn’t willing to talk to Malfoy in front of other people, so he waited until near the end of the period, when most of the students had cleared out, including Ron and Hermione and Malfoy’s goons. His chest heaved as he strutted over to Malfoy at a fast pace, almost stomping against the concrete ground beneath him.

His arm grabbed Malfoy’s, a little more aggressively than he would have liked. Malfoy turned his head around lazily, and Harry made eye to eye contact with him. His blonde hair flopped against the side of his face, shining in the sun. 

It was always funny to remember back when Malfoy had gelled his hair back, making him look like the impossible prat he was. Now, he loosely let it fall around him, and the back and sides curled in the slightest. His icy grey eyes never wavered from Harry’s stare, challenging him. Harry accepted, and narrowed his eyes.

“I can make you scream louder than the mandrake.” Harry said in a dead tone. A flash of surprise streaked across Malfoy’s face, filling Harry with great satisfaction as he turned on one heel and began to walk away when he heard Malfoy yell behind him,

“So you really want to play this game, Potter?” Harry whipped around, his brows furrowed together. Did Malfoy seriously just say that? He was impossible, but Harry was starting to feel the annoyance and anger boiling inside of him. 

He continued to walk backwards, and yelled back “Bring it on Malfoy!” He wouldn’t let Malfoy get to him, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. He had an instant of seeing Malfoy flash a smirk, but it seemed so much more like an actual smile than a witty, sarcastic smirk. He turned and ran out, realizing he was going to be late to Potions, and that Hermione would never forgive him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /*

Draco’s POV

They continued like this for quite a few weeks, always coming up with new, creative, yet awful pickup lines to use on one another.

The time he had waltzed up to Potter in the Quidditch yard, right before the Gryffindor’s practice, and said “I know you’re a quidditch player, so want to ride my broomstick?” Potter had seemed rather shaken by that one, and half-heartedly yelled “No!” as Draco sashayed away, smiling brightly to himself.

Another time when he had been simply walking down the hallway to the dormitories, Potter had essentially yanked him into a corner, obviously with full intentions to use one of his own pickup lines on him. But Draco decided to have a little extra fun, and stroked his hand lightly on the side of Potter’s face, and whispered in his ear, “Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” then held his confused gaze as he backed away, a small smile creeping upon his lips.

Even when Potter reciprocated, it made Draco laugh to himself. The time he had been reading and researching for his latest Charms assignment by the lake, Potter had walked up to him, pulled his book down, and said “Is your basilisk interested in exploring my chamber of secrets?” Though he hated to admit it to himself, he couldn’t help but look at Potter’s ass as he walked away again, obviously satisfied with himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /*

Draco now sat on the worn leather couch in the Slytherin common room, absent-mindedly smiling to himself as he recollected all the awful pickup lines, Potter’s reactions, and the general warm feeling that filled him inside.

He felt a plop next to him, and inclined his head just enough to see Pansy next to him, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“What are you all so cheeky about?” She asked accusingly, and Draco sneered back, the warm feeling inside of him evaporating instantly. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and out of her face, and cocked her head. It was obvious she wasn’t going to take “nothing” for an answer.

Draco rolled his eyes, and simply went back to his work. He could feel Pansy’s stare on him, and realised he needed to pretend she wasn’t there if he were ever to get rid of her. Pansy’s eyes narrowed, and a smirk crawled playfully onto her mouth.

“It's about Potter, isn’t it?” She asked, and Draco jolted up, whipping his gaze over to her. He had no idea if he was successfully hiding his surprise or not, and based off of how she was still smiling, she probably knew she was also right. Pansy rolled her eyes and giggled while draping one of her arms over Draco’s shoulders. He relaxed slightly, and glanced at her, feeling vulnerable in every way. He hated that he and Pansy could practically have a conversation without words, and still understand one another as well. He thanked the heavens that no one else was in the common room.

“Look Draco, it’s no secret that you’ve fancied Potter for a while now. Especially now with all of your weird flirting and terrible pickup lines. And in regards to you, I guess I’ve always had my suspicions since you weren’t ever willing to jump onto any of this” She gestured to herself as she did a strange body wave thing, and laughed again. Draco even let a small laugh escape his throat with her. He wanted to act defensive, and shrug her off, but it felt nice to finally be able to tell someone about his feelings. About himself. She eventually stopped laughing again, and looked at him more sincerely, with a hint of worry almost, and asked “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Draco immediately felt his walls go back up. Sure, it was great that it seemed Pansy accepted him, and didn’t have a problem with his feelings for Potter, but that by no means meant he was actually ready to talk about it. Bloody hell, he had barely come to terms with it himself.

He shrugged her arm off, looking away. He went to stand up, when he felt her hand pull him down to the couch again. She held him down, and stared him directly in the eyes. He probably could’ve fought her off if he’d really wanted to, but for some reason, there was, in fact, a part of him that wanted to talk about it.

“I don’t know, Pans. I guess, I just wasn’t ready to accept the fact that it wasn’t going away.” He looked away, shrugging his shoulders. It was true. He remembered when he first started having these feelings around fourth or fifth year, and how much they’d terrified him. He’d told himself that if nobody knew, perhaps it would simply go away.

No such thing happened though.

He looked back at Pansy, and was greeted by a surprising bold, bright smile. He felt warm inside again, but not the same warmth as before. “So….” she smiled vindictively, and Draco immediately regretted saying anything as he mentally prepared for what came next. “When can I buy you a rainbow flag? Or perhaps we can go to some sort of event, or a bar!” Draco rolled his eyes and growled almost, hating every moment as Pansy rambled on. But they eventually ended in a hug, and the younger year Slytherins and Blaise were very confused when they walked in to see two of the most ruthless, pure-blood Slytherins in an embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry’s POV

The game was getting to be too much. 

It was severely out of hand, and at this point, people were starting to notice. Harry could barely go anywhere near Malfoy now without having a pickup line prepared. One day he walked past Malfoy on his way to Flying, and just as he thought he was safe while they were passing each other, he felt himself get pulled back by Malfoy hooking his arm around his own. He even twirled Potter, then said “You know Platform Nine and Three Quarters? Well, I know something else with the exact same measurements.” Instead of winking though, the prat raised one eyebrow and stared at him, seductively almost? Harry had no idea. It was impossible to read what Malfoy was feeling, much less understand what he meant. Before Harry could even come up with one in return, Malfoy was gone.

He had to be constantly prepared.

It was exhausting.

Even his friends had noticed. Ron still seemed oblivious enough, or just thought Harry was messing with Draco. But Hermione had approached him before, and asked him point blank, “Harry, what in the hell is going on between you and Malfoy?” She asked, then muttered after, “pardon my language.” He had attempted to explain the whole situation to Hermione, but he himself didn’t fully understand it either. In the end, Hermione just shook her head and touched his arm lightly, saying “Be careful Harry. Never trust anything Malfoy does.” Harry didn’t need to be reminded of that though.

But now he was starting to get nervous that their rivalry, if you could even call it that, was starting to become too public. With Hermione approaching him, Ron shooting him weird looks, and even Parkinson now looking at him in the weirdest ways, then whispering something into Malfoy’s ear. He felt extremely uneasy about the whole thing.

Yet, he couldn’t get Draco off of his mind. For god's sake, he’d even started calling him Draco in his mind. Whenever he’d lay awake at night, it was impossible to erase the thought of his silky blonde hair in his fingers, or his stormy grey eyes. He’s even started to notice the little things, like how Draco’s grey eyes changed depending on his mood, or that he often stared at him during the few classes they had together.

One particular day in Potions, he noticed that not once had Malfoy’s eyes peeled away from him. Harry attempted to ignore, yet could still feel him staring from a few seats over. He hoped to god that the blush that painted his cheeks wasn’t too evident.

The professor had finished his lecture, and now they had the rest of the period to talk amongst themselves and begin to prepare their brew. He was just about to get up to collect his ingredients when an enchanted origami bird land on his desk. Harry almost ripped it open, and inside revealed the message “How about you let me explore your restricted section, Mr. Potter?” He gasped, and covered his mouth just in time to muffle a small scream.

He looked back to see Malfoy talking with another student, and now it seemed he couldn’t take his own eyes away. Then, just for an instant, he saw Draco look away from his conversation to shoot Potter a look accompanied with a slight smile. Harry simply gaped, not being able to respond. Draco went back to his conversation, and Harry hated that he could practically disable him for an instant whenever he did anything remotely surprising or unexpected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /*

Harry was lying awake in the middle of the night once again, and thoughts of Draco bombarded his mind. This is ridiculous. How is it even possible that I hate someone so much, they’re constantly on my mind. He cursed Malfoy, and was sure it was part of his evil plan to eventually destroy Harry. 

He eventually decided that sleep obviously was not going to come to him, so he pulled the Marauders Map from underneath his pillow, and activated it. He scanned the map front and back, in search for the cursed name, until he finally came upon it. Draco Malfoy. It said he was in one of the East corridors, and in an instant, Harry sprung from his bed and grabbed his wand, and rushed down the stairs as quietly as he could. He kept a close eye on the map, and made sure to never lose sight of the name that refused to leave his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /*

Draco’s POV

Draco often liked to wander about at night, though he rarely left the Slytherin dormitories. But tonight he couldn’t stay locked up inside of them anymore. It was becoming too much, and his thoughts seem to cave in on him more and more with every minute. After a little while, he ended up out in the courtyard. It was lightly snowing, and the full moon shone down. Draco cast a warming charm on himself, and continued to stroll, admiring the beauty of the falling flakes, until fe found a bench and decided to take a seat. 

He closed his eyes, and deeply inhaled the crisp air.

“Oye, Malfoy!” Draco almost leaped off the bench, startled as he saw Potter approaching him. What in the hell was he doing out here, especially so late at night? Malfoy decided not to ask, and Potter continued. “Let’s finish this.” He said firmly, and Draco raised both eyebrows before standing up behind him, “Alright, have it your way then.”

He followed Potter to a corner of the courtyard, and faced him, about six or seven feet apart from one another. They simply stared at first, and Draco smiled devilishly before saying, “Did you order some Felix Felices? Because you’re about to get lucky.” Potter barely seemed fazed, and immediately retorted with another.

~”You want to learn how to speak troll? I’ll have you groaning and grunting in no time.”

~”I need to learn Occlumency, because I can’t get you out of my thoughts.”

~”I don’t need Accio to make you come.”

~”Let’s give Moaning Myrtle a run for her money.”

~”Wanna go manage some mischief together? I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”

~”I’ll be your house elf. I’ll do anything for you and I don’t need any clothes.”

~”Did you use the Stupefy charm, or are you just a natural stunner.”

~”Are you the Golden Snitch? Because you’re by far the greatest catch here.”

With every line, they took a step closer to one another, until they were chest to chest. He was slightly taller than Potter, by about an inch or so, and being so close together meant he had to look down, and Potter had to look up. The fringe that usually hung over his face seemed to skim Potter’s, and they locked eyes. Before he even realised, he had Potter pinned up against the wall, inches away from his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /*

Harry’s POV

They were practically locked together, eyes unwavering from one another. They were breathing the same air, sharing the same heat from Draco’s warming spell, and were frozen in time. Then, Draco grabbed the collar of his robes and pushed him up against the wall, pushing himself against him as well. Harry gasped, taken aback by the surprise. Draco’s eyes, which now looked like a soft, milky current, moved slightly from Harry’s, and towards where his hand was combing through Harry’s unruly hair. 

Finally, he wrapped his hand around Draco’s neck as Draco pressed his lips against Harry’s, pushing him further into the wall. His one arm wrapped around Draco’s waist, while the other imitated Draco’s hand, and finally felt the wonderful sensation of his soft, silky, blonde hair falling between his fingers. 

The kiss itself was exhilarating. It was soft, but hard at the same time. It somehow felt like too much and not enough all at the same time, and Harry desperately needed more. His tongue had just slipped gently into Draco’s mouth as he pulled away, his hot breath turning to steam in the cold air. Draco looked softly into Harry’s eyes, and whispered one last time, “Are you sure you’re not a dementor? Because I think I might die after that kiss.” Draco smiled again with that same illuminating smile that he saw so rarely, and Harry sagged to the floor as he watched the blonde walk away, thinking of all the wonderful pickup lines he could get to use on him in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


End file.
